


Dioscuri

by avocadobears, ges_who



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst lowkey, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, F/F, Fantasy, Found Family, Gay and Lesbian Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Slavery, Sort Of, but comic relief, like exclusively
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadobears/pseuds/avocadobears, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ges_who/pseuds/ges_who
Summary: The Beneath was an underground realm ruled, by and large, by an evil race called Mindraizers. Grotesque beasts with exposed brains and numerous barbed tentacles which were highly intelligent, and controlled other creatures through manipulation, dark magic, and mind control. They enslaved whoever they could and killed who they couldn’t. Many small factions fought against their evil empire, but there had not been an opposing force since the decline of the Corvidelf Queen, Gaia. She had ruled faithfully for centuries, waging war on behalf of freedom, but in her older years her mind had declined. Eventually, she was assassinated by her treacherous husband who came out of hiding in order to seize power from her. The queen’s heir, her granddaughter, disappeared soon after and is presumed dead. The new king, Uranus, was incompetant and tyrannous, losing more and more land and subjects to uprisings, famine, and Mindraizer raids. The Beneath was largely without hope, but not without life.





	1. Balthazar

The Beneath was an underground realm ruled, by and large, by an evil race called Mindraizers. Grotesque beasts with exposed brains and numerous barbed tentacles which were highly intelligent, and controlled other creatures through manipulation, dark magic, and mind control. They enslaved whoever they could and killed who they couldn’t. Many small factions fought against their evil empire, but there had not been an opposing force since the decline of the Corvidelf Queen, Gaia. She had ruled faithfully for centuries, waging war on behalf of freedom, but in her older years her mind had declined. Eventually, she was assassinated by her treacherous husband who came out of hiding in order to seize power from her. The queen’s heir, her granddaughter, disappeared soon after and is presumed dead. The new king, Uranus, was incompetant and tyrannous, losing more and more land and subjects to uprisings, famine, and Mindraizer raids. The Beneath was largely without hope, but not without life.

Balthazar had been a slave in the Mindraizer army for as long as he could remember. Humanoid Draconic folk didn’t have a very long lifespan to begin with; they were considered fully mature by 13 and not expected to live much longer than 30. Balthazar had started his combat training after being separated from his family at age 6. He was now 21, and had only lived this long because of his unit’s healer, Jerr.

Jerr was a Human man of 27 years. He was as slight and frail as his Draconic companion was big and burly. A decade of slavery to the Mindraizer empire had turned his light brown hair and beard grey in patches, but what he lacked in strength he made up for in his mind and his faith. Before his small Human village had been sacked by his current captors, Jerr had been the son of the most learned priestess in their small society. He had a mind for numbers and an amazing gift for healing magic. His unshakable faith in the god of his mother served is what he drew his power from. Jerr’s talent for healing is what saved him when everyone else he knew was killed by the invading army. He had seen a Silver Dragon Folk soldier, already over six feet tall but still only a child, bleeding out on his doorstep during the battle. He had drawn up the last vestiges of healing power his distant god had granted him that day, and healed the wounds of his innocent enemy. That child had been Balthazar, and the two had been inseparable from that day on.

Balthazar stared into the cooking fire that Jerr tended to, scraping the last of his stew into his maw. He rinsed his bowl out in the stream by their camp and put it back in Jerr’s backpack, which was charmed to be much deeper and lighter than it should have been. He sat beside his friend and watched the firelight glint off his own scales and studded leather armor. Glancing up, he noted how it glinted off of Jerr’s collar the same way. The collar was covered with runes in the ancient Mindraizer language, and nigh impossible to break with magical or mundane means. It stopped Jerr from using his magic against their Masters. The Mindraizers could control the minds of most beasts, and even the majority of people. Bal was strong of body, but not of mind and often struggled under their influence, but Jerr’s keen mind deflected their corruption. Hence, the control collar. 

“I’ll take first watch if you want,” Bathazar offered. “Everyone else is asleep.” He motioned to the orcish, draconic, and demigiant soldiers sleeping around them “The Masters won’t be checking up on us until morning, at least.”

Jerr rubbed his beard tiredly, and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” He pulled a roughspun blanket from his bag and wrapped it around himself, then sat curled up under his larger friend’s open arm. In short order, his breath slowed and he was snoring softly.

Bal sighed fondly and settled in for his four hour watch shift. He peered out into the darkness, the fires of other army camps lighting the caverns they had settled in for the night. The well fortified interior camp of their Masters was barely visible from the fringes sixty feet away, but that was for the best. The closer you were to The Masters, the better they could control you. Balthazar was pretty sick of being controlled, and Jerr’s attempted lessons in resisting them hadn’t been going wonderfully. As intelligent as Jerr was, and as much as he genuinely cared, he was not a patient teacher. If _he_ understood something, he didn’t see why _Balthazar_ couldn’t.

A flicker of light in the distance caught the Draconic’s eye and shook his thoughts away. The flicker was followed by the sound of intense shushing. The ruckus came from a small tunnel about thirty feet away. Curiosity piqued, Balthazar hastily shook Jerr awake and motioned silently to the mouth of the tunnel. With his poor human vision and lack of sleep, Jerr was left squinting into the dark, but he trusted Bal to guide him, even into danger.

As they approached the source of the small disturbance, Bal hefted his greatsword and Jerr raised his hands to cast a protective spell (one of the few non-healing spells his collar allowed him to cast), which illuminated the tunnel they had arrived at. Nothing was in it.  
Jerr nudged his friend farther into the cave, his protective charm hovering in front of them. Still nothing. The two lowered their guard.

“Well, that was exciting,” Jerr murmured.

“I swear to Solar, I saw something!” Bal grumbled back.

“Don’t invoke my god’s name to defend your own idiocy. He deserves better than that.”

“Well maybe whatever it was moved!”

“Maybe whatever it was never existed to begin with, and you woke me up for no reason!”

  
**_BOOM_ **

  
Their bickering was interrupted by a blinding explosion of silver energy outside the mouth of the tunnel. The two men peaked their heads cautiously out into the main cavern, and saw two black-clad figures standing among the now flattened tents and huts of their battalion's campground. They appeared to be standing at the epicenter of the explosion, when suddenly one of them turned to glance at the Human and Draconic who were observing them, both of whom quickly ducked back into their tunell. Listening carefully with his superior hearing, Balthazar honed in on the conversation the two figures were having.

“Well, I think you got all of them,” murmured a melodic voice.

“At least the Mindraizers are dead,” responded a voice the was just barely higher in pitch than the first.

“Yeah, and so are all of their enslaved soldiers!”

“For the last time, they’re not dead, just stunned!”

“Whatever, let’s just get out of here before any of the dead people wake up.”

“Not dead! Stunned! And- oh!” the slightly higher voice cut itself off suddenly.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” their companion responded.

“You’re bleeding- oh no, oh dear Saints-”

“Stop freaking out! I’m fi-” silence, then, the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“Shit.” the higher voice hissed.

“Shit.” Jerr hissed as he heard this, and before Balthazar could stop him, he clambered into the main chamber where the two figures had been. Bal quickly followed him, sword drawn, as he rushed to Jerr’s side. They had just reached a spot a few feet away from the fallen figure, whose companion was holding them, murmuring profanities under their breath.

The moment the conscious figure heard the steps of the men, they whipped their head up and thrust out their hand, palm glowing with silver energy. Jerr stiffened and held up his hands in surrender. Balthazar only gripped his sword tighter and aimed the tip at the figure’s head.

“I’m a healer, I just want to help,” Jerr said frantically. “Please, let me help.”

Now, as Jerr stepped forwards cautiously with Bal on his heels, the still cognizant people in the room could see each other. The person who was currently giving off waves of silver energy and anxiety was a young Corvidelf, probably not even in their twenties. They had dark grey skin, silver hair done back in a long braid, and piercing sapphire blue eyes. They wore nondescript black clothing, likely thieves-clothes, which were loose near the body but tighter in the forearms and calves. They had boots that appeared to be designed for climbing, and an array of pockets and pouches all over their body. The person in their lap could have been their clone, but was most likely just their twin; they were identical down to the clothing, except for the quickly spreading bloodstain near the collapsed figure’s ribs.

“Why do you want to help us?” the mage demanded, the light in their palm intensifying and they grew more frantic, the other hand pressed to their twin’s wound.

“I am a healer,” Jerr repeated, his voice calm but his hand shaking with fear where only Bal would notice it, “and it is my duty as a man of my god to heal all those who come to me injured. Also, I think you just freed my friend and I from slavery. And I’d like it if we could stay free. We could help each other.”

The Corvidelf visibly struggled for a moment in deafening silence, then silently nodded. Quickly but carefully, Jerr knelt down, laid hands on the injured elf, and allowed the glowing golden power of his distant sun god to flow through his hands and into the wounded body below him. The blood stopped spreading, and the unconscious form’s breathing evened out.

The mage elf released a sob of relief and the physical tension escaped with it as they held their twin close, murmuring softly to themselves. Finally, tearful blue eyes turned to Bal and Jerr, pinning them where they stood.

“Thank you. We just used our last healing potion. Idon’t know what I would have done... I never learned any healing magic...thank you.” They no longer sounded as defensive as before.

“You’re welcome,” Jerr said politely. “We should probably get somewhere safer than this cavern. More Mindraizers may have been sent after this disturbance.”

The Corvidelf nodded and struggled to their feet, trying to support their fellow as they stood.

“I can carry them,” Bal offered quickly, wanting to be of some help in this situation. The mage looked skeptical, but eventually allowed Balthazar to lift their unconscious companion into his arms bridal style.

“By the way, he’s a he, or whatever. In case you were wondering,” the elf quipped.

“I was,” Bal responded almost too quickly, sneaking a look down at the limp figure in his grasp. “And what about you? I’m sorry, I can never tell with Elves.”

“That’s fine,” they responded. “I’m a she, I guess.”

“And what about your names?” Jerr asked. “I’m Jerr, and this is Balthazar.” Balthazar shot him a look. Apparently there was no longer secrecy in meeting new people who may mercilessly kill you later on.

The elf once again peered at them with suspicion. Eventually, she said “We’re the Dioscuri. That’s the only name anyone really uses for us.”

Bal reeled in surprise, and Jerr looked like someone had slapped him, but the two quickly shot each other looks of ‘don’t make that face, you idiot’, and their expressions settled to slightly less agape.

The Dioscuri was a legend; a tall tale that had risen up among the resistance and trickled into the rumor mill of Mindraizer slaves. The version of the Dioscuri that most people believed in was a single assassin-mage that lived among the shadows and destroyed Mindraizer’s by the army, then vanished after the deed was done. While it was easy to see how someone may have seen both of the twins and assumed they were one person, there was no way these terribly young, terribly vulnerable elves were the legend that fuelled the resistance.

However, thinking back on how this pair had disappeared from the tunnel without a trace, and then that blast of magic energy… maybe it was possible. Maybe these kids were living legends. However, right now, they just looked tired.

The four ventured away from the dimly lit camps across the underground caverns to a smaller cave, not nearly as indented as the last ones had been. As Bal placed the male half of the Dioscuri carefully on the ground, the female half helped Jerr set up protective wards around their new little camp. Gold and silver magic wove together, shimmering off the dusty walls and then disappearing into an invisible, but likely impenetrable, dome over their party. She settled down next to her brother, pulling his upper body into her lap and carefully unbraiding his hair, running her fingers through the tangles before repeating the process with her own silver tresses.

“I slept last night, and I really only need a few hours per week,” the young woman stated softly. “You can both go to bed if you want. I’ll keep watch.”

“Wonderful,” Jerr grunted apathetically. “Thank you.” Jerr started to yank Bal down by his arm but realized he literally could not move his beast of a friend. He nudged Balthazar hard in the side, trying to get his attention.

Balathazar was hooked on staring bewilderedly at the Dioscuri twins. Out of amazement at the elves, or fear that they would slaughter them in their sleep, he was unsure. Perhaps a mixture of both.

Balthazar spared a glance at Jerr who raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, obviously annoyed that Bal still hadn’t become Jerr’s personal pillow yet. Balthazar lifted his gaze back to the twins. The female was staring daggers at him, gripping her brother close as she leaned back against the stone walls. She didn’t seem to be actively angry, just incredibly defensive. Balthazar flopped onto his back hurriedly, not wanting to seem like a threat. Jerr automatically curled up beside him, and promptly began to snore. Balthazar could feel the elf’s stare piercing into his prone form. It was going to be a long night.

For the second time that evening, Balthazar settled down next to his snoring friend. This time, however, he allowed himself to drift off into blissful, dreamless sleep, despite the urge to keep one eye open on their new camp-mates.


	2. Pollux

Before his eyes were even open, Pollux knew something was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong, but different, and when you’ve lived most of your life with a price on your head, the venn diagram of ‘something I wasn’t expecting’ and ‘something that might kill me’ was pretty much just a circle.

  
Pollux was accustomed to waking, staring with blank tiredness up at a force-field of his sister’s magic, but on this particular morning (or what passed for morning in the beneath) the usual impenetrable and very cool silver shield was interspersed by a gentle, golden glow. His sister, whose lap his head was resting in, glanced down at him as he began to sit up rather hastily and look around, a crease between his eyebrows. A Dragon-folk dressed in studded leather armor and a Human man wearing a ragged robe were huddled together a few feet away underneath the same glowing protective dome. They were practically cuddling. Cute. Pollux sort of gaped in confused delight at it for a second.

  
Then the little voice in the back of his mind that Pollux liked to pretend he didn’t recognize hissed at him.

  
“ _They’re vulnerable. It would be so easy._ Do it.”

  
Pollux growled back mentally (and quite literally), his face contorting into a snarl. “ _Do what? Kill them? Steal all their junk?_ That’s no way to make friends.”

  
Castor was staring at him knowingly while he sorted his thoughts out. He always forgot about the world around him when the grumbling grouch hobbled into his head to poke at his brain with a large, pointy stick of threatening words. Everything just got blocked out.

  
“He bothering you?”

  
“No-," Pollux responded quickly and sullenly, casting his narrowed gaze towards Castor and then to the floor. It softened for a second as he realized how stupid he was being, knowing damn well Castor knew what was going on, but he persisted with his glower. He absentmindedly began to twist his fingers into his hair, letting them do the quick job of a clumsy braid. Pollux had grown up having to tie it back, harshly tight, every day, so this act of clumsiness was strictly due to sudden bitterness. That, and he never quite got the hang of braiding his hair himself. It used to be done for him, and now Castor does it to practice quick and light work with her fingers. By now, Pollux could no longer tell if Castor was actually succeeding in her rogue handiwork, or if there were no longer any nerves in his scalp from previous vicious hair brushing and braiding.

  
“Is it because of the strangers?” she pressed on, leaning forward a bit to try and meet his eyes. “If they’re setting you off, we can leave them behind… I just thought they could be good allies.” She paused as if waiting for some sort of response. None came, just harder pulls at coils on his own hair. “The human one is Jerr, and he’s a magical healer.” Castor pointed at the smaller figure curled against the bigger one’s stomach. Then she gestured to the larger man. “The dragon guy is Balthazar, and I don’t actually know what he’s good at, but he seems pretty strong and intimidating…”

  
Cas had trailed off, seeing that Pollux had no interest, it seemed. She tried to act like she didn’t care one way or another, but Pollux could tell when he spared a glance at her that she wanted to stay with these bozos. He could understand why. They could only steal so many healing potions, and a little extra muscle would definitely come in handy. Besides, Cassy was an incredibly powerful mage, but she was still only one person, and as hard as she tried to teach him, years of having his power stifled and beaten out of him had made it difficult for Pollux to learn even the simplest charm. With more magic around, Pollux wouldn’t have to humiliate himself in front of his sister over and over.

  
“Fine,” Pollux relented. “We’ll keep them around. But if they turn out to be shitty, I can and _will_ kill them in their sleep.”

  
“That’s the spirit!” Castor responded cheerfully, patting him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s wake up our new friends.” Pollux let out a short groan at the f-word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated! This chapter is dedicated to Amorphea, who I can only assume left kudos out of solidarity. :D


	3. Jerr

Jerr had spent the last decade or so waking up next to Balthazar, so when he happened to do so on this particular morning, it wasn’t a shock. The shock came a moment later when he felt the press of foreign magic surrounding him. After years of his power being entrapped and watered down by the Mindraizer collar, he found it difficult to sense the energies of other magic users, but this was… overwhelming. But not exactly in a bad way. It was like being swaddled in a very thick blanket that ended with you sweating profusely underneath.

He opened his eyes only to see more eyes staring back at him, bright green and blue. Jerr released a yelp of surprise, which quickly woke Bal who bolted onto his feet, weapon in hand, in a matter of what felt like one second. The figures stepped back a bit and a bright silver light suddenly illuminated the cavern, held aloft by a young Corvidelf. 

_Shit_ , Jerr thought, his eyes widening in panicked realization. _I forgot about the Dioscuri._ He glanced over to where the Elf not holding light in her hand (like it was nothing!) had unsheathed a set of wicked looking knives from seemingly nowhere.

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._

Jerr opened his mouth to hurriedly apologize for his outburst, repair the situation in some way before he and Balthazar (who was still holding his damn sword aloft in a frenzied panic) were turned to dust and shadows like the Mindraizers back in the other cavern. However, before he could speak, the mage elf started talking.

“Oh stones, are you alright?” She lowered her hands a bit and then cast a piercing look at her companion. “Honestly, brother, put the knives away.” She released the light, and it floated up toward the ceiling of the cavern where it hung like a bulb, illuminating the darkness surrounding them. Her brother reluctantly lowered his daggers, sliding them back into place somewhere on his sleeves. Perhaps underneath them. Jerr would have marvelled at the mechanics of it but he was still trying to keep himself from fainting. Balthazar and Jerr did not move, except to breathe. “I forgot that humans don’t see well in the dark. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I did.” The male elf spoke up as if to prove a point. His sister punched his arm harshly without looking at him. He looked as if he was trying not to flinch away.

Jerr noticed the glint of Balthazar’s sword, still raised between them and the Elves. He hastily reached over and forced Bal’s arm down. Well, there was no way for him to physically _force_ Bal to do anything, but still. Balthazar got the point, offering him a look of angered confusion and then resolve at Jerr’s pleading expression, and lowered his sword to point at the ground.

“That’s perfectly fine. I was also somewhat startled by your magic.” Jerr took a breath, fairly certain that any potential violence had been averted, “It’s just very strong. Quite impressive.” A little flattery never hurt… hopefully.

The kind words had the desired effect on the mage; she smiled, saying chipperly, “Thanks! Yours is impressive, too, considering the dampening collar you’re wearing.” 

Her brother’s face remained impassive, possibly turning even grimmer. Jerr could sense that he knew his sister was being buttered up, even if she couldn’t. Jerr would have to be especially cautious of him.

Jerr’s mind replays what the female Elf had just said.

“How could you tell it was a dampening collar?” he inquired. He didn’t even fully understand the function of the thing, and he was the one wearing it. She smiled again, pointed little teeth glinting in her gentle light.

“Well, those runes make it pretty obvious. Standard magical control curse, with some Mindraizer vernacular added in to give it more punch, and probably to enhance any mind control over you. I could also tell by how you cast the healing and shielding spells last night. You cast the way someone with a broken hand writes; all cautious and flinching. If we get the proper spell components, I could help you remove it, if you’d like.”

Jerr was sort of overwhelmed by all of that information, both explicit and implicit. Everything the mage said out loud was astounding, but most fascinating was the implication behind the words; this person had studied magic and its related fields in depth, and had probably been trained by someone very talented (and expensive). As he pondered this, Balthazar spoke up defensively, taking a small step forward that made the male Elf match his stride.

“You can get that thing off of him?” he demanded in his gruff, thunderous voice.

“Yup!”

“And what will it cost?”

"Everything," the brother deadpanned. His sister rammed an elbow into his ribs. He let out a suppressed squeak in response.

The twins then seemed to have a silent conversation composed of glaring, raised eyebrows, and mumbles in an incoherent language. After a moment, an agreement was apparently reached. Both sets of eyes returned to meet Jerr's. He tensed automatically.

“Loyalty," the brother said bluntly. “We exchange favor for favor, and we build loyalty.”

He looked to his sister for affirmation, and she nodded comfirmingly. 

“Well put,” she stated, then stepped forwards and thrust both her hands out to Bal and Jerr, crossing elbow over elbow. “Partners?” Her grin was the complete opposite of her brother’s frown.

Jerr hesitated for a moment, then took her hand. It was cool to the touch, same as her magic, with callouses and a firm grip. He could only imagine how sweaty his own palms were, but he tried to seem confident when he answered, “Partners.” Balthazar took her other one after Jerr. Behind her, her brother sullenly shoved his black hood up, obscuring his face from Jerr’s view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao we forgot 2 post this from like 2 weeks ago ik ALL of u were waiting with baited breath lmfao peace - avo

**Author's Note:**

> Any for of constructive feedback is appreciated, especially comments. Thank you Avo, for making sure this is an actual story and not just a bullet point list of stuff that happens.
> 
> lmao ur welcome thanks 4 planning the skeleton - avo


End file.
